


Beatdown: Stridercest Style (Troll Remix)

by complexQuanta



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Food Fight, Incest, M/M, Quadrant Confusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 07:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1542179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/complexQuanta/pseuds/complexQuanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To tacticalTempest.</p><p>Davyyd goes to Ambroz's quarters and gets mentorship, a food fight, and sloppy makeouts.</p><p>Someone from another species might recognize their strange mixture of pale, flush, black, and age/power differential dynamics as "exactly the kind of incest that Tacts likes".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beatdown: Stridercest Style (Troll Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tacticalTempest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacticalTempest/gifts).



> To Tacts. You were one of the people who inspired me to stick with fanfiction writing at the beginning. I heard that you wanted a food fight, sloppy makeouts, or a bath scene, and, well, two out of three ain't bad.

Ambroz had been acting weird for so long that Davyyd was relieved to finally get an invitation to his quarters. Davyyd was new to the ship, and his supervisor, Ambroz, was a stoic, older, experienced troll, who had displayed a combination of protectiveness, competitiveness, and mentoring which Davyyd found hard to place. Someone from another species might recognize their strange mixture of pale, flush, black, and age/power differential dynamics as “exactly the kind of incest that Tacts likes”, but since Davyyd and Ambroz were and had always been trolls, they were happy to just get closer to resolving things.

When Davyyd entered the quarters, the room was dominated by an immaculately set banquet table which was covered with the strangest combination of foods he had ever seen in one place. Ambroz was wearing his finest-fitting standard-issue troll t-shirt, and looked placidly at Davyyd from behind his triangular shades.

“So is the food meant to be ironic?” said Davyyd.

“I knew I was teaching you something,” said Ambroz.

“Gotta admit, with this whole setup I’m not sure whether you’re angling for a food fight or sloppy makeouts.”

Ambroz grinned seductively. “Why not both?”

Davyyd grabbed a cupcake in each hand and lunged his mouth towards Ambroz’s. But Ambroz flash-stepped out of the way. Suddenly he was behind Davyyd, nuzzling caringly at the back of Davyyd’s neck. Davyyd had never been kissed there, and he moaned, cupcakes hanging loosely in his forgotten hands, as Ambroz began massaging his hands heavily through Davyyd’s hair. It was not until the pasta sauce began running down his back that Davyyd realized Ambroz had put most of a bowl of spaghetti between his horns.

Davyyd snarled and swept backwards with a hook kick. As expected, he didn’t knock Ambroz off of his feet, but Davyyd was able to use the distraction to dodge to the side. He twirled around, threw his cupcakes as feints, and flipped a serving spoon full of mashed potatoes out of a luckily-positioned bowl and straight into Ambroz’s face.

Davyyd savored the thrill of victory as Ambroz wiped the mashed potatoes comically from his pointed shades. Then Ambroz gave a low, sexy growl, and grinned, picking up a large punch bowl of what looked like apple juice with both hands. Davyyd looked around frantically, trying to find the trick — apple juice wasn’t enough to be Ambroz’s only trick. When Ambroz whipped the punch bowl towards him, he let himself be soaked, still thinking it was better than whatever else Ambroz had planned.

“Hal!” called out Ambroz. “Cool things down!”

The room’s climate control system roared to life and Davyyd felt cold air on his juice-soaked skin. Speakers hidden throughout in the room hummed to life and spoke with a distorted, obviously synthesized voice. “It seems like you’re trying to romance another one of your subordinates. Do you require further assistance?”

Ambroz sighed. “No, Hal, I think I’ve got this.”

Davyyd glared at Ambroz. “Another one? Is this a thing for you?”

“I’ve been known to take a hands-on approach to mentoring in the past.”

Davyyd snarled, and began a low growl. “I hope you’re not expecting to continue that in the future.”

Ambroz looked Davyyd head to toe, evaluating him critically. “I think that if one of my students showed sufficient progress, I could be persuaded to be very loyal. But it wouldn’t be an easy thing for them to do.”

Davyyd was starting to shiver, but he looked at Ambroz defiantly. “Then I guess we’d better get started.” Davyyd deepened his voice, aiming for his best Ambroz impression. “Hal, emergency shutdown!”

“It seems you think that I am an idiot,” said the wall speakers. “It was a nice try, though. None of the others have thought of it. But while you’ve been distracted with me you’ve let him get behind you.”

Davyyd rolled to the side without thinking, just in time to prevent an entire hollowed-out roast turkey from being shoved over his head. “Hal, no helping,” said Ambroz warningly.

Hal beeped petulantly and said nothing. Davyyd hoped briefly that Ambroz’s vague phrasing would lead to the air conditioning being turned off, but apparently today wasn’t his lucky day for dealing with evil computers. He rubbed his arms and backed into a corner, watching Ambroz carefully, but Ambroz just walked slowly towards him, arms spread and palms open.

“You look cold,” said Ambroz. “Let me warm you up.”

Ambroz took the younger troll in his arms, and Davyyd melted into him. Ambroz was warm and caring and let’s mention old again to really hit up that incest theme. They enjoyed nearly thirty seconds of sloppy flushed-ish makeouts before Davyyd gently pulled his mouth away. Ambroz backed away with a question on his face.

“You’ve been pretty good so far,” said Davyyd, “but we’ll see who gets the last LAUGH!”

LAUGH  
2+1+1+2+2 = 8 % 10 = 8  
Mating-Fondness Contract Ceremony Multitiered Frosting Loaf  
2+1+2+1+2+2 + 2+1+2+2+2+1+2+2 + 2+1+2+2+2+1+2+2 + 2+1+2+1+2+1+2+2 + 2+1+2+2+1+2+1+1+2+1+2 + 2+2+1+2+2+1+2+2 + 2+1+1+2 = 88 % 10 = 8

The entire Mating-Fondness Contract Ceremony Multitiered Frosting Loaf hit Ambroz square in the thinkpan.

By the time Ambroz had recovered, Davyyd stood in the doorway. “So what is this, exactly?” said Davyyd. “Flushed or black?”

“Fuck you’re young. What are you, six sweeps?”

“Eight and a half!” Davyyd protested before he could stop himself.

“This is whatever it is,” said Ambroz. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but as long as you have your buckets filled when the drone comes, no one comes around checking your paperwork in the middle.”

“You’d better not get weird about this at work,” said Davyyd.

“Kid, I am going to ride you so hard at work you’re going to _wish_ I was just being ‘weird’ about it. But you’ll be better for it. You’re the best I’ve seen in ten sweeps. You’ve got potential, and I’m going to show you what you’re meant to be.”

“So you’re pale for me, and you just want to fuck me as an added bonus? You’re fucked up.”

“Going to pretend you don’t want me to? We’re both fucked up, kid. And if you ever ask me again which quadrant you can shoehorn us into, for any purpose other than making sure your buckets get filled come Dronesday, then this is over. Understand?”

Davyyd thought for a moment, then half-smiled. “Yeah, I’m cool with that.”

“Great. Now go back to your own damn quarters and go the fuck to sleep. You’re going to have a rough day at work tomorrow.”


End file.
